


Between the Sheets

by Nuggsmum



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuggsmum/pseuds/Nuggsmum
Summary: Olive and her neighbor Tom have a very odd relationship....





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an imagine that I came across from tumblr user @painfullythickimagines and you know how my mind wanders…… Anyways, she was so gracious to let me steal her brain-bunny. Thanks, Doll!
> 
> "Imagine being insomnia buddies with Tom. You live next door to each other, and the way your apartments are laid out, your bedrooms share the same wall. If there’s ever a night you can’t sleep, you give it a gentle knock to see if he’s awake. If he is, you pad your way into his room for some cuddle time. Not being able to sleep with Tom is better than not being able to sleep on your own."
> 
> Warnings: Nothing really, pretty tame! Some language.

I got up to get another blanket from the closet. I shivered as I ran from the warmth of my bed to the closet, grabbed a thick fleece blanket and ran back. I dove into the bed, spreading the new blanket on top of the others and burrowed down. It was spring, but the last two weeks of rainy days had been chilly, and as it always was with these old brick, terraced houses, the cold crept in and stayed. I would be damned if I was going to turn the heat back on. So I just grabbed another blanket. I sank down further into my warm cocoon and grabbed the book I had been reading.

I was trying to concentrate on the sentence I was reading, but my mind couldn’t focus. I was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to sleep. I hadn’t slept well in three weeks. I sighed, putting my book aside. I grabbed my laptop off my night stand and my stylus. I opened my drawing program and a file I had been working on. I was drawing a giant gorilla, trying to make her look shy and sweet. I felt like too often they were depicted as mean. Once she was to my liking, I sketched a little cartoon man next to her, kissing her giant, hairy knuckles. I chuckled to myself when I thought of all the hysterical comments this was going to get when I posted it to Tumblr when it was done. If only my Tumblr Bitches knew, I thought, shaking my head.

I was just finishing the coloring on the man’s golden hair, added a tad more shading on the pecs under his tight blue t-shirt, swept a rising blush on the gorilla’s cheek. I drew some little heart bubbles around her head. Because no one, not even Kong herself (yes, I knew Kong was a male, but this worked better for my idea.) could resist this man’s charms. _Except me._ That’s what I tried to tell myself, anyways. Even though I knew I was lying. I still repeated it. Over and over.

I saved the drawing. I would post it tomorrow, after I had a chance to look it over with fresh eyes. I put my computer back on the night table and turned out the lamp. I flopped back into the pillows. The rain started coming down harder, hitting the window. I stared out the window, the yellow glow of the streetlight coming through the pouring rain. I thought about my poor garden. There was no way all the seedlings I planted would survive this. I groaned out loud, thinking about all that wasted time and money.

Just after my groan, there was a tap on the wall behind my bed. Then another. I smiled. He was home. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet, not for another few days. I reached my arm up and tapped back, three times. I laid there in bed, counting. Forty-five seconds and I heard next door’s back door open and close. Fifteen seconds, and my garden door unlocked, opened and closed. I heard him kick of his shoes, and cross my kitchen to the stairs. I counted the footsteps on the stairs. Eleven. I smiled to myself, he had skipped one.

My bedroom door opened and he crossed the room, pulled back the blankets and jumped in. His long arm reached out and pulled me close to his chest. I quietly breathed in the scent of him, feeling like I was the one that just arrived home. I looked into his face in my darkened bedroom, he smiled his trademark grin at me and kissed my forehead. I leaned my head on his chest and snuggled closer.

“Hello, Oli. I’ve missed you!” He said into my hair. “Wow. It’s really warm in here. How many blankets have you got on?” I giggled.

“You missed sleeping. Not me, Tom. Let’s not lie. And it’s bloody cold. There are six blankets. I’m not turning on the heat again.” I mumbled into his chest. He huffed.

“I missed you, you stubborn woman. I did miss sleeping too, though. I swear, the walls in hotels are thinner than ours! The chap in the room next to me last night? I could literally hear him breath. I’m not even kidding. All night, I laid there listening to him. Finally, I just got up and arraigned to take a sooner flight home. I got in a few hours ago. I got you some olives. A few different ones, actually. Did you notice that Mr. Next Door’s girlfriend’s car is not there? Did they finally break up? When I was home last, they were fighting quite a bit. He’s kind of an ass, I was hoping for her sake that she would toss him. I thought you were sleeping, until I heard you groan. Why’d you groan, by the way?” He asked.

He was always like this when he got home. Like an excited puppy, talking a mile a minute. Then he would settle down, and we would get to business. And by business, I mean sleep. We had an odd relationship, my neighbor and I. We were friends, to be sure. Very good friends. We had lived next to each other for almost five years. We shared a back yard, our houses shared a common wall and the builder had only given one back yard to every two houses.

When he had first moved in, I had been used to having the run of the yard to myself. The old lady that lived in his house never came back there and told me to do as I pleased. And I had. I planted tons of flowers. Everything from roses, to lilacs, to exotics and back to marigolds. I had a vegetable garden along the back wall. As an artist, I used my garden a lot to find inspiration. So, he moved in and I had to share my space with him. He was very nice about it, and didn’t ask me to tear down half my stuff. He just wanted to hang out back there. He bought a table and chairs, and shared it with me for half shares in my grill. He offered to cut the grass, in return for me tending the flowers. He would weed the vegetable garden, and I would pay him with veggies. We had developed a good working relationship.

As we hung out more in the garden, he would sit and read while I painted. We sat in silence well together. We also would talk. He would tell me about upcoming projects and I would tell him about what I was working on. Mostly, I would listen. Listen to his dreams. Listen to him practice his lines. Back then, he was just starting to get noticed in his career. It was exciting watching him rise to the star he was today. After he had been living next door for almost a year, we were in the yard together. I was trying to paint the dew on the yellow roses, and he was lounging on the lawn chair next to me.

“Have you ever noticed how thin the walls are in this place? I can hear everything. I mean everything that goes on in Mr. Next Door’s bedroom. Maybe if I could sleep, I wouldn’t hear it. I don’t think they are intentionally loud. On the contrary, she shushes him a lot. Eheheheheh!” He chuckled. I looked at him. He was wearing his sunglasses, his head leaned back against the headrest of the seat. I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, I can hear everything that goes on in your bedroom. You never hear me complain. I know when you turn off your light. I know when you can’t get comfortable and toss and turn.” I went back to my painting. I left out what else I could hear him do. "Though I must say, its actually pretty nice. Mrs. Clayborn had a television in her bedroom and she was deaf. So.“

"I’ve noticed that you always keep late hours. Half the time I don’t know that your up, because you’re so quiet. But then I’ll hear you typing or swear. You swear to yourself, did you know that? A lot.” He chuckled. “Are you up just because you choose to, or because you can’t sleep, like me?” He asked. I finished the spot that I was trying to get the shading right on and put my brush in the water.

“I just can’t sleep. I used to take medication for it, but I couldn’t focus during the day when I took it, so I stopped. It’s not like I have a nine to five job anyways. So it doesn’t really matter when I sleep, I guess.” I said, picking up my supplies. He helped me carry the easel and my box of paints back to my kitchen.

I hadn’t thought much of the conversation until late that night. I was up, sitting in my bed, scrolling away on Tumblr. I was commenting on a post, typing away, when Tom knocked on the wall. I stopped typing, thinking that I was disturbing him.

“Sorry.” I said quietly. I closed my computer, preparing to go downstairs where I wouldn’t bother him.

“Olive, what are you doing?” He asked me quietly.

“I was commenting on something I read. I’m sorry, I can go downstairs if its keeping you up.” I replied.

“No! It’s fine. I can’t sleep. Do you want to, I don’t know, watch a movie or something?” He asked me. I held my breath, not knowing how to answer him. It was the middle of the night. I knew him well enough. We hung out a lot in the back yard. But did I think it was ok to hang out in the middle of the night like that?

“Olive?” He asked.

“Sure, Tom. Here or there?” I asked, just going for it. What did it matter? We would watch a movie, and he would go home after. No big thing.

“I’ll be over in a few. I’ll bring the movie, if that’s ok?” He asked.

“Ok.” I called back. I got out of bed and pulled on some sweats and a hoodie. I threw my hair into a really messy bun. The way I saw it, if he wanted to come to my house at 2:30 in the morning, this was the best he was getting. Honestly, he had seen worse in the back yard. I tended to get pretty gross when I worked on my flower beds.

Just as I was walking into my kitchen, he knocked at the back door. I opened it and let him in. He kicked his shoes off and held up the movie. It was Heat. I raised an eyebrow, but led him into the living room.  
We sat on my couch watching the movie, not close, but not far apart. We talked occasionally, but mostly paid attention to the movie. I felt my eyelids drooping about halfway through, trying to keep them open.  
Next thing I knew, I woke up on the couch and it was morning. What’s more, I was sleeping curled into Tom's side, his long arm wrapped around me, holding me close. I tried to slide off the side of the couch without waking him, but his even breathing was interrupted as he took a deep breath and pulled me closer. He stretched his other arm up and over his head, groaning.

“Hey… When did we fall asleep? I don’t even remember the end of the movie.” He looked down at me. "You know, I haven’t slept that well in a long time. Did you sleep as good as I did?“ I thought about it. I had slept great, actually. He was still holding me to his side. I wanted to stay there, it felt so nice, but practicality won out and I pushed myself up and out of his arms.

"I did sleep great. Which is odd, because this couch is rubbish. I can never sleep on it. I used to try when Mr. Clayborn would watch wrestling. She would get excited and yell.” I chuckled, feeling nervous all of a sudden. I stood up and crossed my arms across my chest. He stood up too.

“I guess, I should..” He pointed to the kitchen and the door. His escape. “I’ll see you later, I’m sure.” He said, smiling.

I nodded and he left. I hadn’t been surprised at how quickly he had bolted. I wasn’t the type that a movie star should go for, even if he was just getting a start in his career. I was quiet, and while I wasn’t bad looking, I was normal. Average. Fine for someone that wasn’t him.

I didn’t see him for the rest of the day. I stayed out of the garden, working on a commission of some woman’s prized corgi. As I was putting the finishing touches on Chauncey’s diamante encrusted collar, I heard Tom’s back door shut. I looked out the window of my studio into the backyard and he was walking around, looking at the flowers. I shook my head and smiled. I went back to my painting. He eventually went back inside after grabbing some vegetables.

Much later that night, I was sitting in bed, drawing on my computer. A cartoon of a man in a smart British WWI uniform, riding a frisky horse, who was trying to take a bite out of his leg. There was a quiet tap on the wall. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, so I just continued with my drawing. Two taps.

“Tom?” I whispered.

“Oh good, you’re up. I wasn’t sure. Listen. I was hoping to see you outside earlier. I wanted to ask you something.” My heart started beating faster. “ I was thinking, and this is crazy, so feel free to say no, it won’t hurt my feelings…” He stopped talking. I waited.

“Yes, Tom?” I ventured. He took a deep breath.

“I was wondering if you wanted to sleep with me?” He said quickly. My heart dropped and I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs. I let out a squeak as my mouth worked to come up with an answer to such a forward question.

“Shit. No! Not like that! I didn’t mean, oh my god! I didn’t mean have sex with me! Christ, you must think I’m a pervert!" He sputtered and I could picture him getting all red in the face and looking completely adorable. "Let me start again. I meant, since we slept so great together last night, I was thinking that we might mutually benefit from sharing a bed. To sleep in. That’s all. It was really nice, to sleep. And you are a great sleeping partner.”

I sat in silence, thinking about what he was proposing. Could I sleep in the same bed as this man, knowing that nothing would ever come from it other than we would both finally get some rest? I knew how I felt about him, even though I tried to ignore it.

“Olive? I’m sorry. That was completely out of line. Please, forget I asked.” He said quickly.

“No. No. It’s a good idea. We can try it. See if last night wasn’t a fluke?” I said quietly. I could almost sense his relief through the wall.

That night, we both slept like babies. And so began our odd relationship.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language/bad online dating dates/butt snuggles/ some angsty jelousy

  
I snuggled back, deeper into the warmth of the arm that surrounded me, not wanting to give up on my dream just yet. I wiggled even closer to the hard body that was flush with mine, letting out a little content sigh. The arm tightened and pulled me even closer, hot breath dancing across my neck. My eyes drifted open. I lay there, listening to him breath, secretly relishing the contact.

_This is getting unhealthy,_ I thought to myself. _Shut up, no one asked you_ , I thought back.

While I was used to waking up with Tom wrapped around me, I never quite got used to him. His proximity. The way his hand would skim over my stomach when he would wrap his arm around me in his sleep. How he would nuzzle into my neck and sigh. The feel of him, pressed hard and insistent against my bottom, the shorts he slept in doing nothing to contain it. The feelings that he would evoke in me that I had no way of acting on. I knew it wasn’t because he was excited about me, it was just a normal morning thing, and the first time it had happened, he had been mortified. Apologized for weeks. Profusely. It was almost damaging to my self-esteem how much he apologized.

"Mmmm. God how I’ve missed you.” He murmured into my neck, as he lightly kissed where my pulse was throbbing and ground his hips into my bum. I froze, not knowing how to react. His hand began inching up my stomach towards my breast and I let out a little shriek of panic and flipped off the side of the bed, taking all the covers with me. I heard him groan and roll over. He sat up and looked around. I poked my head up, looking at him over the side of the bed.

“Olive? Olive! What are you doing on the floor?” He asked, looking confused. “What time is it? Wow, we certainly slept in, didn’t we?” He jumped up from the bed like a spring of pure energy. I stared at him. _Had he been asleep? Dreaming? That must have been it. He would never do that to me… someone else, most definitely. Our boy is no saint. But he treats me like a sister. Except that now he occasionally gropes my in his sleep, evidently,_ I thought. I was still sitting on the floor, when I zoned back in to reality. He was talking. I blinked several times, trying to catch on to his speech. I managed to get the end.

“…So, I’ll just pop to the café and get some coffee and breakfast? After the month I’ve had, I need to just sit in the garden and do nothing. Well, by nothing I mean read some scripts, but you know. Its supposed to be a nice day, I guess I brought the sun back with me, eh? ” He smiled at me. I blinked back at him. “You alright, Olive? You seem more quiet than usual. Why are you on the floor, again?” He asked, coming around to my side of the bed and helping me up.

“Thanks. I, ah, must have fell off, I guess. You were sleeping? You didn’t hear me fall?” I asked him as I sat on the edge of the bed. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning look.

“I woke up because you pulled the blankets away. Are you sure you’re alright?” He sat next to me, his serious listening face on. I let out a small laugh.

_Of course he was asleep, you nut,_ I told myself.

“Yes, just rudely awoken by hitting the floor, I think.” I said. He laughed and gave me a peck on the forehead, leaving. I listened to him bound down the stairs and out the back door. I heard him enter his own kitchen and go up his stairs. I could hear him opening drawers and getting dressed.

“Hey, Tom?” I asked quietly.

“Hmm?” He answered. I wanted to ask him. Who he had been dreaming of. Who he had missed so much. Who it was he wanted to grind into and kiss their neck.

“Can you see if they have blueberry scones? Thanks.” I replied, getting up to take a shower.

~*~*~

I was sitting at the kitchen table, checking my emails, when Tom came back. He came in through his house first, then went into the yard and came through my back door. We had decided a long time ago that it wouldn’t be good it the paparazzi caught him coming in my door. The rumors would fly.

“They didn’t have blueberry scones. I got cranberry scones and blueberry muffins. I got you an espresso, too. You looked like you needed the extra caffeine.” He said as he came through the back door. I watched him as he took plates from my cupboard and placed them on the table. He grabbed my favorite mug from the draining board and placed it on the table and poured my coffee in it. He sat down next to me and pulled out a scone and a muffin, holding them up for me, his eyebrow raised in question. I pointed to the muffin.

“Excellent choice, madam.” He said, waggling his eyebrows and placing it on the plate for me. I inwardly sighed at the ease of our relationship. We were like the perfect couple. Without the sex.

“You alright, Olive? Do you want the scone instead?” He asked, watching my face closely.

“No, I’m fine. The muffin is great, thank you for getting it.” I said, looking down. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, and I noticed what he was wearing.

“Did you know you have a hole in those pants? Just there, near your shin.” I asked, looking up at him as he took a bite that devoured half the scone. He looked down and grunted. I couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no. “You do realize that if anyone got a picture of the best dressed man in the UK in holey track bottoms, your fan girls are going to die, right?” I asked, laughing. “There will be a fandom war over whether they like them or hate them. That’s not very kind of you, Thomas. Those poor girls don’t deserve this kind of treatment. Think of the fandom!” He popped the rest of his scone in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“The question is, my dear Olive, how do you feel about them?” He asked me, his eyes taking on that smolder of his as he leaned closer to me. I sat back in my chair and mouthed like a fish.

“I-I-I… well… I think they are fine, if you like them. If you’re comfortable.” I said quietly. He smiled and took half my muffin.

“I am comfortable. Very comfortable.” He said, lounging his long frame on my kitchen chair. I got up and went to the fridge, just to put some space between us. Lately being too close to him, when we weren’t sleeping, made me feel jumpy. Awkward. Sad. A whole bunch of emotions that I didn’t want to consider, because there was no future for us. Eventually, one of us would begin a relationship, and we would have to end our current situation. It had already been on a few hiatuses.

As I dug around in the fridge, trying to find something that would make sense of why I went over there in the first place, my computer made a noise like a fog horn, signaling I had received an email. Tom was sipping his coffee and he glanced at the screen. His eyes widened.

“Olive. Why are you getting an email from a dating website? Someone named Suave'n'Tall sent you a message? Are you actually doing this?” He asked, turning to face me. He looked a little mad. I shrugged.

“I had looked into it. What does it matter? It’s not like I really meet a lot of people, I stay home most of the time. A friend recommended I try it. She met her husband on there. Its how a lot of people date these days. Its perfectly acceptable.” I babbled, embarrassed that he seemed to think there was something wrong with it.

“Have you met anyone? Gone on any dates?” He asked quickly. I shook my head no. He let out a breath. “Good! Well, I mean, you need to be careful. Some of the guys on these things are sleazy. Just don’t. Well. Just be careful.” I stood at the fridge still, staring at him. He had stood up and started to pace around the table. I had tried the dating site, but hadn’t gotten many interested guys. The few that had messaged me were kind of scary so I didn’t message them back.

“What kind of name is Suave'n'Tall? I bet you he isn’t even tall! That’s the problem with these things. You can say whatever you want, and then they get you out on a date and they can take advantage of you. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, darling, but you need to watch out. They put stuff in your drinks!” He ranted.

“Tom, what the hell are you going on about? Do you really think that every guy that signs up for online dating is a creep? Just because you don’t need to do it, doesn’t make it bad. Some of us need the help.” I said, slamming the refrigerator door shut. “Don’t judge me because I don’t want to be alone forever.”

“You're not alone!” He cried, throwing his hands up. “Are you going to marry someone who thought Suave'n'Tall was a good name for a dating website?”

“What do you mean I’m not alone? I have no one. Besides you. And I don’t even know how to classify that. We’re friends, but we sleep in the same bed. Is that enough for you? Don’t you want someone, Tom? Someone to love?” I whispered, feeling tears prick the corner of my eyes. I knew he wanted that, just not with me. He stared at me, hard.

“Of course I do. It’s not…If you would just… You’re completely missing the point… I love you, you know that? You’re not alone. I will always be there for you.” He said, his color high. He turned to look out the back window.

“Not when you finally find someone. Do you think she’s going to want you hanging around with the girl you used to sleep with? Even if all we ever did was sleep? And I don’t want to miss my chance at being somewhat happy because I waited around for that to happen.” I cleared my throat and blinked back the tears. I didn’t want him to think that I was crying over him, even though I was. “What does it matter anyways? Its not like anything is going to come of these dates.”

“Dates?” He said, his head turning quickly. “So you have planned some dates? With who? When? Where?”

“I’m just meeting a couple guys for coffee. That how you do it, I guess. One is this afternoon. Then another on Saturday.” I said, sitting down miserably. He wasn’t going to drop this.

“What are their names? Where do the work? Where do they live?” He demanded, sitting across from me, looking like a detective that was getting ready to interrogate a suspect. I sighed.

“Ray and Dave. I don’t know where they live, or where they work. That’s the whole point of meeting someone. Is to get to know them.” I replied, like I was talking to a two year old having a tantrum.

“What time are you meeting them? Which café are you going to?” He said, pulling out his phone and punching in something.

“Why?” I asked, not liking where this was going. He looked up at me, his eyes serious.

“There is no way you are going to meet these strange men by yourself. I will sit away from you, and pretend I don’t know you, but make no mistake, I am going to be there.” He snapped.

“You are totally overreacting! This is so ridiculous! You're not my father, Tom!” I hissed at him.

“Damn straight I’m not your father, I’m….” He stopped. He stood up from the table and went to the back door, wrenching it open. “Text me the times and places. I’ll see you later.” He said as he walked out the door, shutting it loudly behind him.

“What the fuck just happened?” I said out loud to my empty kitchen.

 ~*~*~*~

I did not text him the times, or the locations. I had gone upstairs and gotten ready as quietly as possible and at half past three, I left my front door, shutting it silently. I hurried down the street, feeling like a fugitive. I arrived at the coffee shop with ten minutes to spare. I ordered a coffee and sat at a table, and waited. I had brought a book, so I pulled it out of my bag and opened it on the table. I snuck a peek around the shop and exhaled a relieved breath. I didn’t see Tom.

I saw Ray come in the shop. He seemed like a nice guy. We had messaged back and forth for about 2 weeks. I lied to Tom, I knew what he did for a living. He worked in finance. He liked books and a lot of the same music I did. We like a lot of the same movies. I didn’t see the harm in meeting with him.

He stood just inside the door and looked around, spotting me. He waved and went to order a drink. After he order, he came over and leaned in and kissed my cheek then sat down across from me.

“Hi Olive.” He said sheepishly, smiling. I smiled back thinking it was kind of adorable that he was so shy.

“Hi Ray. It’s nice to finally meet you.” I said. He smiled. We laughed at our awkwardness. We exchanged pleasantries about the weather. He asked about the book I was reading. He said that he was trying to read the complete works of Charles Dickens before Christmas so he could end with A Christmas Carol. He started talking about his ride over and how horrible the traffic was in the city.

“I don’t know how you can live here! I was saying to my mother before I left that I knew this was special that I would drive into the city to meet you! She asked me to invite you to supper Saturday night. She’s a really good cook. Do you like cabbage? She is going to start cooking lighter meals, because my doctor said that I have slightly high cholesterol. So, you will have to follow a diet too, and it will be good for you. Shed a few pounds. You’ll be able to move out of the city, right? I mean, coming in once or twice is fine, but I don’t think that it would work if I had to come to this place all the time. Plus, I don’t like to leave mother alone for too long. She misses me when I’m gone. Do you know how to cook, Olive?” He asked, leaning forward and touching my leg under the table.

I could feel my mouth hanging open. I snapped it shut as the waiter came over with the drinks.

“A tea, steeped in bottled water for only one and a half minutes with extra non-fat milk for the gentleman.” He said, putting down the mug. “And a coffee with a blueberry scone for the lady, on the house.” I closed my eyes, counting to three. I opened them to see Tom, walking away. He looked over his shoulder at me and winked.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language/ angstyyyy

  
I watched Tom’s retreating back in disbelief. I realized that Ray was still talking, so I tore my eyes away from one bastard and laid them on another.

“I was saying to mother that I wanted to get in and out of the city as quick as I could, depending on how this little date went. As I told you, she doesn’t like to be alone for long. Now that I’ve met you, I feel comfortable asking you to dinner at our house. We always dress for dinner, and it starts promptly at seven. I trust you have transportation? I really don’t want to have to come back into the city to get you.” He paused to take a sip of his tea, pinkie up.

“Tsk. They didn’t use the tea I asked for, I can tell. I have a very discerning palate. It’s so hard to get a decent cup of tea in a shop like this.” He looked around, distaste evident on his face. “Everyone is all about latte this and espresso that. My mother makes the best tea. I usually only drink hers, she always has a fresh pot for me when I wake in the morning. How do you make tea, Olive?” Ray asked, staring at me over his glasses. I mouthed wordlessly for a moment. He gestured with his hand, indicating he was awaiting my answer, and not so patiently. I sat up a little straighter, feeling myself going from unbelieving to unbelievably pissed in about 2 seconds flat.

“I don’t drink tea, Ray. I drink coffee. And I love espresso. Excuse me.” I said, standing up so quickly that my chair fell backwards. He looked confused as I turned around and marched out of the café. I didn’t turn around to look at him. I stood on the sidewalk outside, a little shocked at how horrible that had been. _Was Tom right? Were all guys on dating sites such creeps?_ As if called to me by the thought, Tom came bouncing out of the shop. I gave him a withering look, turned on my heel and started home.

“Oh, come on, Olive!” He pleaded, having no trouble keeping up with me, his long strides equaling two of mine. “Aren’t you glad I was there? He seemed like he would have chopped you up in bits and put you in the trunk of his car!” I turned on him.

“No, he wouldn’t have. He values his car too much to get blood all over it. Though, his mother would probably be able to get the stains out.” I snapped. Tom stared at me, his eyes wide. He started laughing.

“Olive, come on! You have to see the humor in this! They guy was a little too attached to his mom. And that’s coming from a self proclaimed momma’s boy. It’s a wonder he didn’t take her with him on your date. That would have been fun to watch.” He laughed. I started walking again. He followed me, still laughing. I tried to keep the smile down, but his laugh, as always, was infectious.

“Stop it, Tom! I’m trying to be pissed at you.” I said, irritably laughing.

“I know, Olive. And I’m sorry for being an ass. I was worried about you, that’s all.” He said, giving me his puppy dog eyes. My heart sunk a little. _That’s all. He’s just watching out for me. Like any good friend would. And that’s all it will ever be, Olive._

“You were being a complete twat.” I grumbled. He laughed again, more bounce in his step. We had reached my door, and I didn’t say anything, just went in. I might have laughed with him, but I was still pissed. Also embarrassed, irritated, sickened, and I wanted to be alone. I walked down the hall to the kitchen, throwing my bag on the counter. I stopped short at the sight of three jars on my table. Though they were all different sizes and had different labels, they all held olives. He always brought me home jars of olives from his travels. Usually he presented them to me with a funny story or some insight as to where they came from. He must have brought them earlier when I was getting ready and left them.

I touched one of the jars, feeling a tear slink down my cheek. Dashing it away and taking a deep breath, I grabbed the jars and went to my studio. I opened the large cupboard and added them to the many jars already in there. He was always so proud of them, I never had the heart to tell him that I hated olives. Honestly, even if I had liked the foul things, I don’t think I could have brought myself to open them anyways.

I spent the rest of the day and evening working on a painting that I was going to try to submit to be part of a new display at a nearby art gallery. They had put out an ad asking for local artists to submit a painting and the only requirement was that it was their interpretation of love. I had thrown aside five paintings already. This was the sixth.

I sat in front of a blank canvas, staring out the back window. What was love? How was I supposed to interpret something that I had never experienced? I mean, I loved people. But romantic love? Nope. The only person I had every really loved was Tom, and it was unrequited. Just the thought squeezed my heart painfully. I turned to my pallet, pulling on some of the darkest blues and purples I could mix. I began painting a night scene. A lake at the base of a large, imposing castle. Along the shore, I added an overturned row boat. Walking up the hill towards the castle, away from the lake, a tall man. His broad shoulders were hunched against the cold, his coat pulled tightly around his lithe frame, the collar turned up. Moonlight reflected off his golden hair.

In the middle of the lake, a feminine hand, reaching up, grasping the air as it slowly sunk into the depths of the murky water. A necklace with a heart shaped pendant wrapped around the slender fingers.

I sat back and stared at my work. It was dark. Horrifying, even. I liked it, even though it was depressing as hell. This is what it felt like when you loved someone who didn’t return the feeling. This was my interpretation of love.

~*~*~

Late that night, I was scrolling through Tumblr, when I came across several posts based off of a tweet that had been posted earlier in the day.

_OMFG. Tom Hiddleston is serving coffee at the café in my neighborhood. Research for a role?_

And the Tumblr-sphere was freaking out. I shook my head. Even when he was being a complete idiot, we still loved him. Of course, no one but me had any idea what he had been doing. How he thought he could get away with doing that and not get noticed was beyond me. I began sketching a new cartoon. Tom as a waiter, slipping on a wet floor, his tray of drinks flying all over. I chuckled lowly as I gave it a speech bubble that said, “God Save the Tea!”.

I was adding crimson cheeks of embarrassment to Cartoon Tom, when there was a tap, tap, tap on my wall. I stilled, not sure if I wanted to answer. I lived for the nights that I spent in his arms, even if that’s all that we did, but the days, when I had to face the fact that it was just a sleeping arraignment were getting harder and harder to deal with.

“Olive? Are you awake?” He asked very quietly. I held my breath. “Olive, I’m sorry. Please, can you forgive me? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I really was concerned for your safety. I should have respected your privacy and not shown up. I won’t do it again, I promise. Unless you want me to. If you want me to I’ll go on every date you have, ehehehe….. Olive?” He whispered.

I sighed. I tapped back. I heard him jump out of his bed and practically run down the stairs. I shut my computer and put it on the night table. I turned out my light and rolled over. I didn’t move when my bedroom door opened. I listened to him cross the room and pause at he edge of the bed.

“Olive?” He asked, tentative.

“Yeah, Tom?” I replied, still not looking at him.

“Do you hate me?” He asked.

“No, you jerk.” I mumbled. He chuckled and pulled back the covers, hopping in the bed and snuggling up to me. I held my breath, willing the tears that burned at the cornered of my eyes to go away. I cleared my throat. “Goodnight, Tom.”

“G'nite, Oli.” He murmured into my hair, sighing contentedly.

~*~*~

I woke to Tom, flat on his back, snoring to wake the dead. I was laying with my back against his side, his arm flung over me. I groaned and rolled over to sit up when he snarked. He reached over and wrapped his long arm around my middle, pulling me back into his side.

“Nooo.” He whined. “Can’t sleep with out my girl. Need her.” He started snoring again. I raised my eyebrows and slowly moved away from him again. I made it to the edge of the bed, when his arm shot out again and gripped me like a vice. “Said no.” He grunted and pulled me closer. He wrapped his leg around mine, holding me. He sighed and his breathing became deep and even again. I gave up the thought of moving and just lay there, looking at him.

“Tom.” I whispered.

“Yeah, love?” He murmured back, his voice scratchy from sleep. I bit my lip, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. Occasionally he would call me things like darling or love, and it would burn my heart to know it was only a friendly term of endearment.

“I think its time for me to get up.” I whispered, feeling miserable. One blue eye popped open and peered at me. He pulled me closer. The eye watched me, taking in my battle to conceal my emotions. I felt like he could see through me and that made it even worse. The thought that he knew what he did to me, but did it anyways.

“Do you have somewhere you need to be? Do you have somewhere you would rather be?” He asked, the eye drifting shut.

“No.” I said my voice wobbly, feeling the tears start. The eye flew open, zeroing in on my face. I pushed my way out of his embrace and dove off the bed, and shot into the bathroom. I stood inside the door, fighting the sobs that were trying to break free.

“Olive? Oli? Are you sick?” He asked, sounding slightly panicked.

“Uh… Yeah. My stomach…” I lied, trying to take deep breaths to steady myself. I eyed the small window, wishing I could squeeze out of it and disappear forever.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked. “Oli?”

“N-no, Tom. I’m fine. Thank you. You don’t have to stay. Actually, it might be better if you go…” I hesitated, not thinking he would believe me.

“Right, then. Right. Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” He asked. I groaned, hoping it would get him to go. “All right, I’ll go. Call me later and let me know how you are. I have to fly out tonight. I hope to be back in 2 weeks, hopefully sooner if I can.”

“Have a safe trip, Tom.” I mumbled, ready to bang my head against the door.

“Oli, I….” He stopped and sighed. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

As I listened to him leave, I sunk down on the floor, sitting against the door, and let my head drop in my hands.

~*~*~

“This is…..” Jeanne paused, looking at my painting, then back at me, her face blank. She looked back at the painting. “Honey, this is stunning! My word! The imagery, the sadness, the ANGST!” She yelled, throwing her arms up in the air, different colored shawls flying in all directions. Jeanne was the curator of the gallery, and the person that had put out the ad for the love inspired paintings. I had shown some of my art there before, and she always reminded me of Stevie Nicks. She definitely had her wardrobe.

“This is exactly what I wanted! What I had hoped for! This is going on the focal wall. Yes! By the way, doll. Are you ok? This is some seriously dark shit. Do you need to talk to someone? I’ve got a great therapist.” She said as she walked away with my painting. “Next Saturday is the opening. Be there , or be square, chicken. And for gods sake, wear something cute. We’ll find you a man!” She cackled, disappearing behind a black velvet curtain into the back.

I left the gallery, glancing at my phone, I was late. I had made plans to meet Dave, from the dating site, at the park. I figured we could get a coffee and just talk as we wandered around through the gardens. I was rushing down the street when my phone went off. I grabbed it and swiped it to answer.

“Hello?” I asked, not recognizing the number.

“Olive! Olive?” Tom yelled into my ear.

“Gah! Tom! What’s wrong?” I cried, barely able to understand him over the noise in the background.

“What? Oh, that! I’m in a helicopter! I wanted to know if you were feeling better? Olive?” He yelled.

“I’m here! I’m fine. What are you doing calling me from a helicopter?” I yelled.

“I was thinking of you, and you didn’t call me like you said you would!” He sounded slightly hurt. My heart skipped a beat. _He doesn’t mean it like that._

“So you had to call me now?” I laughed.

“I’m very busy! Ehehehehe!” He yelled back.

“I have to go, Tom! I’ll talk to you later!” I yelled.

“Are you meeting that guy today? The other one from the dating site? Olive! Olive? Olive!!!” He yelled.

“Byeeeeee!” I yelled back, hanging up the phone. I shook my head, a small smile on my lips as I rushed to the coffee cart we had planned to meet at. I saw him standing there and he gave a little wave.

“I’m sorry I’m late! I was at a work meeting and it ran a little over.” I said, as I reached him. He nodded and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, which was ringing.

“Hello? What? No! No, I fucking told you that order had to be out by four pm. I’m going to have your job, you incompetent asshole! No. If you don’t get it done, you better not be there when I get back to the office. God damn it!” He yelled into the phone, then swiped it to end the call. “Sorry about that. I miss the days when you could actually slam the phone down after a call like that!” He laughed, motioning for me to order from the vendor, who was staring at me, as if he wondered why I was still there.

I ordered mine, then he ordered his. His phone rang again, and he answered it, wandering away a little bit.

“Hello? It’s in the file! What the fuck do you mean its not there. No. I saw it this morning. That’s it, you are fired! And you’ll never get a job in this town after I’m through with you, you useless piece of shit!” He screamed.

I stood, rooted to the spot, completely shocked. I didn’t even see the tall man approach me from the side. He gently grabbed my arm and began leading me away.

“Luke!” I breathed, never so happy to see Tom’s publicist and friend. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: swearing, uncomfortable Luke

 

“Luke? Earth to Luke!” I said, feeling my irritation rise the further we walked and he didn’t answer me. “Tom sent you didn’t he? He called you right after he called me! But your place is across town from here.” I gasped. “You were following me!” Luke looked over at me and smiled. He ushered me into a small café across the street from the gardens. Once he had me ensconced in a corner booth in the back, and a warm coffee in my hands, he sat across from me, his hands folded on the table.

“I was not following you, Olive.” He said. I took a sip of the coffee, closing my eyes and relishing the burn of the hot liquid. He sipped his tea.

“So you just happened to be in the same park as me? When Tom had literally just called me? Come on, Luke. Thank you, by the way. That guy was terrifying.” I said, looking down into my coffee and wishing I had some chocolate. As if by command, the waitress came over with a plate of chocolate cookies, fresh out of the oven. I smiled at Luke. He really was great.

“Well. I didn’t leave my house this morning with plans of following you, lets put it that way.” He said, putting one of the cookies on my napkin. “That, ah, gentleman was a little over the top, wasn’t he? They have the best cookies here. Try it. Chocolate is always good for whatever ails you.”

“Luke….” I said, waiting for my explanation. I took a bite of the cookie. He was right, they were amazing. He sighed.

“So, I was doing some shopping and I saw you come out of the gallery. I was in the middle of texting Tom, so I just mentioned that I had seen you. That was all. Well. He called me right back and said I had to follow you! He said that you were going to meet some psychopath. He sounded so panicked that I didn’t even think, I just went. Then I come upon you doing just that! So really, Olive, I’d like an explanation as well.” He looked slightly freaked out. I rolled my eyes.

“So that explains how he knew to call me right at that moment. The twit was in a fucking helicopter, said he just wanted to see how I was feeling!” He raised his eyebrow. “I was meeting a guy I met through a dating site. Tom has his knickers in a twist for some reason about it. He showed up at my last one! I was being safe, we were in a totally public place!” I sighed. “Again, thank you. But he seemed so normal though the emails…And Tom doesn’t get it. He just doesn’t understand what its like for us mere mortals. He just thinks that I’ll always be there, that I should be happy with the way things are and I can’t…”  
I could feel the tears threatening, so I shoved the rest of the cookie in my mouth and chewed angrily. Luke made a sympathetic noise and reached across the table, grabbing my hand. Luke knew about our odd arraignment. I also had a feeling he knew exactly how I felt about Tom.

“Everyone deserves love, Olive.” He said simply. “Sometimes, we have to go looking for it. Sometimes, it’s right in front of us. It’s just finding it that’s the difficult part.” I stared at the man for a moment, thinking about what he had said. Wasn’t that what I was doing? Looking for love. It certainly wasn’t in front of me. Tom was in front of me. Yes, I loved him, but that would never happen.

“Are you saying that you harbor a secret love for me, Luke? That you want to marry me and have lots of babies?” I asked him, feeling a little glee at how he mouthed wordlessly and turned crimson.

“I, well, that is to say, I don’t know that we would suit, not that you aren’t completely lovely, because you are Olive, I just think that maybe someone else might, I- um. Well, I ah…” He managed. I took pity on him and laughed.

“Kidding Luke. Just kidding. Thank you for being my temporary knight in shining armor, and the coffee and cookie. You truly are the best. I see why Tom depends on you so much.” I said, trying not to laugh or cry at his evident relief that I was joking. “I should be going.” I said as I began to stand.

“Here, I’m going back you’re way a bit, I’ll walk with you. I left some really nice trainers on the counter at the store I was in!” He said, jumping up with me. I wasn’t sure if this was part of his orders or not, but it was nice to walk and talk with him about mundane things anyways. We talked about an upcoming fundraiser for some charity that was happening the following weekend. We talked about our gardens and the sad state of them after the rains. I told him about the reason I had been at the gallery and the opening. I didn’t tell him what my painting had been of. I left him in front the store he had left his shoes at and walked the rest of the way home on my own, after assuring him repeatedly that I would be fine.

Sighing as I pulled off my coat and kicked off my shoes, I headed to my studio. What a disaster that had been. I didn’t think that I would be trying online dating again any time soon. I rolled my eyes at the thought that Tom really had been right, not about all men, but the ones attracted to me at least.

The sunlight was streaming in the large bay window that faced the garden. The door to the cabinet was open and the light was reflecting off all the jars of olives, throwing spectrums of color all over the floor. I sat at my easel and pulled a fresh canvas from the side where I kept them. As I painted the scene before me, I let my mind dream of the man who had gifted the many jars to me.

~*~*~

I stood in a corner, awkwardly watching people gather in front of my painting and discuss it. Jeanne had covered the artists names, saying that tonight was just a showing. She didn’t want people to favor certain artists that were more well known.

“Its so fucking dark. I wonder what the motivation was?” An awed art student.

“Is she dead?” A white haired older woman, who looked truly concerned.

“Is this in the right place? Its awesome, but shit!” A young man, dressed entirely in black.

“I relate to this on a deeper level.” A woman who was stylishly dressed, and looked to be about 40.

“Oh my god! I need this darling. It would look amazing in the guest powder room.” An older woman who clearly had many, many face lifts and was dripping in diamonds. She had some kind of animal wrapped around her neck. Maybe a fox? I let out a snort at that one. I almost wanted to approach the woman and offer to make her a copy, just to have it hanging in her posh toilet. Smiling to myself, I took a sip of the champagne that Jeanne had free flowing around the room, handed out by handsome art students from the local university.

“I simply must know what brought such a devious smile to such a beautiful lady. Go on, tell me.” Came a deep voice from next to me. I had been so busy watching Mrs. Fox Stole that I hadn’t noticed the Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome come up to me. He smiled at me, raising an eyebrow at my stunned silence. He was dressed impeccably in a well tailored, grey suit. He was holding what looked like a scotch in his large hand. Realizing I was sizing him up and he was watching me do so, my eyes snapped back to his face. He was gorgeous.

“Perhaps I need to introduce myself before you’ll impart to me what kind of mischief is dancing behind those eyes? Hmm?” He chuckled. “Richard.” He said, reaching out and grasping my hand, bringing it to his lips and brushing my knuckles. I just stared at him, not sure why my mouth seemed to not be working.

“Olive. Olive. Earth to Olive.” Jeanne called, poking me in the side. “Usually she does have the gift of speech.” She winked at me, snapping me out of my trance.

“I’m sorry, too much champagne, I’m afraid.” I laughed awkwardly, earning another blinding smile. “I’m Olive. As you’ve already heard. Nice to meet you Richard.” I said miserably.

“Olive is one of my artists. Can you guess which one is hers?” Jeanne laughed, and floated away in a cloud of scarves and perfume. I glared after her. Richard gently nudged me with his arm.

“I can’t drink the stuff myself. Leaves me all loopy brained. Can’t focus. So you’re an artist, eh? Let’s see….. Which one did you do? Not the puppies? Oh, good. It’s well done, but so…. fluffy. I’ll have to guess it was this one over here. Its the most stunning piece in here. So it must belong to you.” He gestured towards my painting. I nodded, giving him a small smile. He grinned back. We watched the people discussing it.

“I can’t believe the fuss it’s causing. I didn’t think that people would get it. Maybe they don’t and that’s why they are all talking about it?” I said, looking over at him. He shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Not sure. But its amazing. I was debating bidding on it myself, and now I don’t think I can live with out it. Hanging in my toilet, of course.” He snickered as I let out a snort. “Joking! I recently relocated my firm and my office walls are bare. It needs some love. You have an amazing talent, Olive. I’d love to have you do a commission painting for me, if you take them.” He said, leaning in a little closer and talking lower.

“Oh, of course.” I said, feeling foolish to think that he had any interest in me. He just wanted a painting. I pulled my bag open and began digging around. “I have a business card in here somewhere.”

“I was thinking maybe we could discuss it over dinner?” He asked. I looked up and he was smiling at me, his eyes warm. I smiled back. At that moment, a rustle of whispered conversation washed over the crowded gallery. Looking up, my stomach dropped.

In front of my painting, looking like the live model posing in front of his painted form, stood a very familiar back, turned up collar on his pea coat and all. Just as I took in the red ears which I knew all too well meant trouble, he turned and caught my eye.

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: angsty angst. This bitch is angsty. I can’t help it. Sorry.
> 
> Author’s note: So for those of you that asked, Richard is not Richard Armitage, but a sort of gentle nod in his direction. An AU Richard if you will. He looks like him, but that’s where the resemblance ends. I had to somehow include his fine ass after I found out that he was in something called Between the Sheets, but he is nothing like the Richard in this story so. There you go. lol.

 

Tom locked eyes with me. He looked pissed, but was there something else? _Almost sad? No, that’s just wishful thinking Olive._ Either way, that look was just for me, because an instant later, he was all smiles.  
He moved across the room, stopping to talk to people he evidently knew. I fidgeted with my champagne glass nervously, half listening to Richard as I watched Tom. My non-committal grunts were enough to keep him talking.

“My offices are in that new building downtown. You know the one, the big glass job? Yeah. It’ s a pretty handsome rent, but it’s worth it just for the prestige of the address, you know? So, I need some art for the waiting room, and there’s several conference rooms. Something bright and cheery, I think, the chairs are blue. Of course, I’ll be getting that lovely one for my personal office. When does the bidding open?”

“Right, your office.” I repeated, still watching Tom.

“So, what do you say to dinner? Perhaps next Friday? We can discuss the paintings, and maybe go out dancing after? Do you like to dance Olive?” Richard asked.

“Next Friday?” I echoed, watching Tom speaking to the 40 something woman in stylish clothing. She was rolling her eyes at something he said.

“Olive, are you alright?” Richard asked, his hand softly touching my arm. I looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. He looked over to where I had been looking. “Oh. I say, is that…?”

“A bastard?” I muttered under my breath, but Richard wasn’t listening to me.

“It is! It’s that fellow from those movies! You know the one! Oh, what’s his name….” He looked at me expectantly.

“Michael Fassbender?” I replied. Richard was staring at Tom, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“No… No, that’s not it. Right on the tip of my tongue.” He said. I rolled my eyes and chanced a peek at Tom. He was laughing merrily with Mrs. Fox Stole and her husband. _I’ll have to remember to ask him how he knows her_ , I thought curiously.

“Loki! He plays Loki. Oh, what’s his name though?” Richard pulled a face, trying to remember Tom’s name. He turned to look at me, and smiled. “Either way, he’s famous. I wonder if he needs a lawyer. These famous fellows are always getting into some scrape or another. Oh, he seems to be coming this way.” I gulped the remainder of my champagne, choking a bit at the smooth voice that spoke from my other side.

“Hello, Oli. Did you miss me, darling? I just got back and Luke told me that you had a showing tonight. I thought I’d pop in and see what you’ve created. Why didn’t you tell me you had entered a painting?” He smiled at me, waiting for an answer. I stared at him, wondering why I was so worried. What did it matter what he thought?

“I didn’t think that you’d be in town, so I didn’t bother to mention it when I saw you the other day. It’s nothing, really, just a passing thought that I captured on canvas.” I muttered, looking at my empty glass, wishing it would magically refill and then I could drown myself in it.

“It’s amazing! So full of feeling and spirit!” Richard gushed. “I’m going to bid for it myself.” Tom didn’t even look at him, he was still looking at me.

“Are you? Good luck to you, then. Its certainly stunning. Beautiful. Deeply emotional. Don’t need to see your name to pick out your style, love. Oh, how rude of me! Who’s your friend?” He asked, staring at Richard‘s hand, still resting on my arm.

“Richard Crispen III, no need for an introduction, old chap! I know Loki when I see him!” Richard chuckled, taking his hand off my arm and offering it to Tom. I thought for a second he wasn’t going to take it, but he grinned and gripped Richard’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Richard. Are you a fan of the arts?” Tom asked, looking around at all the paintings.

“Some of them.” Richard said, looking at me and smiling. “I was looking for a painting for my powder room.” I let out a slightly hysterical giggle, earning a confused look from Tom. A waiter was passing by and I placed my empty glass on his tray. Tom grabbed two more and handed me one. He grinned at me.

“To celebrate the success of your painting, darling. It seems to be the talk of the room.” He smiled, watching me over the rim as he sipped his own champagne.

“Cheers!” Richard said, clinking his own glass with mine and earning look from Tom.

“Oh, Tom! How lovely that you came! See anything you like?” Jeannie came floating over, snuggling up to Tom’s side. “Bidding starts tomorrow. I bet you would love to have that puppy one. It’s so you.” She giggle, rubbing her hand up and down his arm.

“I might have my eye on it, Miss Jeannie. Don’t tell anyone, don’t want to spike up the bidding.” He said, smiling down at her. I chanced a look at Richard, wanting to just melt into the floor and disappear. He was looking at me oddly.

“You know him?” He whispered, rolling his eyes when I nodded.

“He’s just my neighbor.” I mouthed back.

“Yes, Olive and I go way back, don’t we Oli?” Tom interrupted. “Just neighbors, Olive? I thought we were at least friends.” He pretended to look hurt, but that grin was lurking. I could see it. I wanted to deck him.

“Tom and Olive have been friends for years, Mr. Crispen. Oh, I have to go talk to this one. She’ll definitely buy the puppy painting! Excuse me.” She smiled at Richard, winked at me and leaned into Tom, whispering, “Don’t know why you don’t just knock down the damn wall already.”  
“Olive, I’ve had a really long flight and I’m going to head home, if you’d like a ride?” Tom asked, ignoring the jab from Jeannie.

“But. I-ah. Well. Maybe I should go.” I said, defeated. Richard was good looking, but he was kind of a jerk. I didn’t really want to get to know him better. The champagne had given me the beginning of what was sure to be a major headache. Before I could even say anything to Richard, Tom had wrapped his arm around my waist and began steering me away towards the back door. I turned and gave Richard a half smile.

“It was nice talking to you Richard. Good luck with your decorating.” I said as we walked away. He gave me a sad smile and half raised his glass in farewell.

~*~*~

 

The ride home was fairly quiet. Tom fiddled with the radio, looking for something that he never found. He eventually just turned it off. I looked out the window, not really wanting to participate in conversation.

“Don’t be mad at me Oli. I was just trying to be a supportive friend.” Tom said quietly, as he parked the car. “I think I’d be a little hurt if you said that you really didn’t want me there. Do you really think of me as just your neighbor?” I stared at him, wondering if it was at all possible that he hadn’t notice that it was him in the painting.

“Tom, of course I don’t think that. You know damn well what I think of you. And you know that I would never say that I didn’t want you there it’s just…” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. To actually come out and say what I was really thinking. _Don’t you know that I’m in love with you and that fucking painting represents my repressed love for you and the fact that you will never love me the way that I love you?!!!_

“Don’t tell me that you were actually interested in that guy? Olive! He didn’t even listen to a word you said. Or rather didn’t even notice that you didn’t say a word. He just kept talking!” He stopped when I raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, I was watching him. You deserve better than that Olive. You deserve someone that will hang on your every word. Not expect you to hang on theirs.”

I could feel the tightness in my throat building. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t trust myself. I just got out of the car and went to my door. He didn’t follow me.

 ~*~*~

As I sat in bed, I was finishing up on the waiter Tom cartoon when he knocked on the wall. I sat in silence.

“Fuck.” I heard him mutter. I sighed and reached up and knocked back. As usual, I heard him bound out of bed and run down the stairs. Less than a minute later, he was sliding between my sheets, snuggling up to my back.

“Olive… I’m sorry. I don’t like it when your upset with me.” He murmured into my hair. “You’re my best friend. I don’t think I can live without you.”

“Someday you’ll have to, Tom.” I said wearily.

“Why?” He asked. I didn’t answer, because we both knew why. It was the big, fat, pink elephant in the room that I kept bringing up to him and he kept pretending wasn’t there.

“Go to sleep, Tom.” I said, yawning.

“Oli, I’ve got this charity do that I have to go to next Saturday night. Be my plus one?” He asked, snuggling closer.

“Oh, Tom. I hate those things. I always end up with my picture in some tabloid.” I whined. I hated going to events with him, because it almost felt real. I could fool myself for a few hours that this is what it would be like if he was mine. This is what my life would be like if he loved me back.

“Pleeeeeaaaaasssseee????” He begged.

“Fine. But you owe me.” I said, feeling the lump in my throat again. We lay in silence for a while. Once I thought he was asleep, I let the tears fall that I had been holding back. Silently, they dampened my pillow.  
When they eventually stopped and my headache was raging behind my swollen eyes.

I began drifting to sleep, Tom sighed and squeezed me tighter and whispered, “Goodnight, Olive. Sleep well darling.”

~*~*~

When I woke in the morning, my face was pressed against his chest, his long arms wrapped tightly, almost possessively around me. Hearing his deep breathing, I took advantage and snuggled closer, inhaling his scent. It was nice, waking up in his arms, not thinking about anything. I refused to let my angsty, depressing thoughts invade this moment.

Tom squeezed me tighter and rolled, so that I was laying flush on top of him. I froze, not daring to breathe. His hand gently skimmed up and down my back, and he murmured my name.

“T-t-tom?” I whispered. He pulled me closer and up, so that I was no longer nestled against his chest, but face to face.

“Hmmm?” He hummed, his blue eyes sleepily staring at me. He traced his finger along my eyebrow and then down my cheek. He brushed it across my bottom lip, his eyes lingering. My breath hitched in my throat, it was too much. Too sweet. I closed my eyes against the tears that seemed to be forever on the verge lately and made to push off of him. He held me in place, his hands wrapped around the small of my back.

“Tom…” I started, but his hand skimmed up my back, and twined gently in my hair. Lifting his head to mine, he hesitated for just a moment, then he brushed his lips against mine. His kiss was so soft. He kissed the corner of my mouth, my neck. He groaned. I pulled back, looking at him. He was looking at my alarm clock.

“Olive. I have to go.” He said, sounding miserable. “I have to fly out again, and I’m already late.”

“Oh. Right.” Was all I could manage. I quickly removed myself from his arms, and jumped off the bed. I stood awkwardly for a moment, then turned and walked as normally as I could towards the bathroom.

“Have a good trip, Tom.” I said over my shoulder, looking at him sprawled out on my bed still. I went in the bathroom and turned on the shower, and sat on the floor, my arms wrapped around my knees. Tom knocked on the door.

“Olive? Olive? Please don’t…. I really want….It’s just that I have to….” He sighed. “I’ll see you when I get back. Don’t forget, you promised to go with me on Saturday.”

I couldn’t respond even if I had wanted to, I was trying to hard to contain the sobs that were trying to rip from my body.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Short….. and you thought the last one was angsty. Sorry Loves. I promise. It’s going somewhere. I swear….. Please refrain from gathering as a mob with pitch forks. Thanks :)

 

I hardly ate all for the next week. I was miserable. I kept replaying the kiss. That perfect, incredible, horrible, life ending kiss. I couldn’t figure out what he had meant by it. What he had been thinking. Why he had done it. Was it because he actually had feelings for me? Was it because I was a convenient way to take care of his morning urge? He had never done that before. And he definitely had been awake this time. I sighed as I stood at the window, waiting for the car.

Luke had text me earlier in the day saying that a car would be there to collect me at eight. I felt sick. I was going to see Tom, and we hadn’t talked at all since the kiss. He hadn’t called me. But I hadn’t called him either. I actually hadn’t planned on going until I got Luke’s text. I had assumed that by not calling me, or even sending me an email, that Tom didn’t want to see me. But Luke’s text had made it pretty clear what his wishes were.

‘Tom asked me to make sure that you were ready for the car he ordered at 8 sharp. He will meet you at the event. Are you wearing your usual black dress?’ Luke hated that I wouldn’t go see Tom’s stylist and get a dress on him for these things.

As I sat in the car on the way to the event, I was replaying the call I had received the day before in my head. I still couldn’t believe it.

I looked at the screen, it was Jeanne. swiping it to answer, her voice screeched in my ear.

“OLIVE! Oh my god! You are not going to believe the amount of bids your depressing little masterpiece got! Holy shit, Olive! You know how you’re always whining about how you want to travel and paint the world? Well baby, you’re gonna be able to now!” She was breathless.

“Jeannie, what the hell are you talking about?” I asked, my heart fluttering in my chest.

“Honey, you had some decent bids, a few people even out bid others just to get on top again. I was on the phone about that fucking painting all day! I thought it was over, because the last bid was a little after lunch. I just got a call that asked what the top bid was, then said never mind… Oh Olive. you’re not going to believe this.” She stopped, I could hear her typing something.

“How much, Jeannie?” I asked, kneeling in the garden, half of a tomato plant in my hand. Jeannie told me how much.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shrieked in her ear. I flopped back into the dirt.

“You’ve got to be pulling my leg, Jeannie. Who would have bid that much on my painting?” I asked her.

“Someone who said that they wanted to hang it in their toilet.” She said, slightly dumfounded. “Listen, doll, I gotta run, but I just wanted to give you the news! I talk to you tomorrow!” I said goodbye and hung up the phone. At first I had thought that it might have been Tom. It was something he might do if he thought that people would figure out that the painting was of him. Or if he actually liked it.

But the toilet comment.

The driver pulled up to the line of cars dropping off the attendants of the event. I sat nervously awaiting my turn. This was actually better than arriving with Tom. This way I wasn’t scared I would trip because I couldn’t see where I was going for all the flashing of cameras. Entering the crowded room, I casually looked around, looking for a familiar face. Anyone. I saw Luke across the room talking to another client of his, so I didn’t want to interrupt. I decided to go and get a drink.

I ordered a glass of wine and was leaning against the bar, waiting for the barman to come back with it. I gave up on trying to find anyone I knew within the throng of people and settled for finding a quiet corner. Tom always knew to find me away from the crowd. I was considering if I wanted to be found at all when someone touched my elbow from behind me.

“There’s my favorite artist!” I turned to find Richard beaming at me, impeccable in a classic black tux. He really was a good looking guy. I smiled at him.

“Hello Richard! How nice to see you again.” I said, accepting my wine from the barman. Richard led me away from the bar, over to a standing table at the side of the dance floor.

“I’m so excited that you’re here, Olive! I don’t know if Jeannie has told you yet, but I’m pretty confident that I won the bidding on your painting!” He beamed at me.

“Did you really?” I asked, slightly shocked. “Only if your going to hang it in your powder room!”

He laughed, throwing his head back. Reaching out, he took my glass from me and placed it one the table, and grasping my hand, he led me, despite my protests, to the dance floor. A slow song was playing and he placed his hand at my hip and still holding my hand with his other, he began to lead me about the dance floor. We were the one of the only couples out there, the event just getting under way.

“You have a lovely, wicked sense of humor, Olive. I really do like that about you. We never did get to arrange that dinner.” He said, speaking low so I had to lean into him to hear him properly. Thoughts of Tom and “The Kiss” drifted through my head. I sighed. Even though I didn’t really feel any inclination to get to know Richard better, part of me thought that perhaps I was judging him to quickly. _What if he really was a nice guy?_ However… I couldn’t with good conscience accept a date with him until I knew what the hell was going on in Hiddleston’s brain.

“Richard, you seem like a nice guy, but I’m not in a good place right now. I don’t know if dinner would be a good idea.” I said, sadness in my voice. He stared at me for a moment, then nodded.

“I understand. Perhaps we can still have a working relationship? I’d love to have some more of your art for my offices.” He said. I nodded. We were discussing the colors of his conference room as we left the dance floor. I looked up to find Tom standing at the edge of the floor, watching us. He didn’t look exactly pleased. He tightened his lips and there was a slight shake to his hand as he gave me a tiny wave. Then he stalked off into the crowd.

“Tom!” I called, but he was already out of earshot, or choosing to ignore me. Probably the latter. Richard put his hand on my shoulder.

“What’s the deal with you two? Ah. He’s the ‘not good place’ then? You should go talk to him. Tell him it was just a business meeting,” He said, handing me my wine glass and giving me a peck on the cheek goodbye. I wandered about the crowd, searching for Tom. _How big is this place?_ I thought after almost an hour of searching. Maybe he left? I don’t know why, but I felt like it was really urgent that I find him as soon as possible. To make sure that there were no more misunderstanding between us. I couldn’t deal with this anymore.

_I’m going to tell him. Fuck it. I’m just going to unload on him. Worst comes to worst, I have to move. I can’t live not knowing anymore. I have to tell him I love him, and I need to know how he feels._

I passed the bar and hear cheers. Looking over, I saw Tom. Doing shots. With some scantily clad blonde hanging on his arm. Looking over at me, he gave me the patented Hiddles Salute. Then he turned his back on me and walked away with the blonde. Feeling the tears start to well, I turned on my heel and left. I waked right past my driver, who jumped out and tried to get me to get in the car so he could drive me home.

“But Miss Olive. Mr. Hiddleston will not be pleased if he finds out that I let you walk home! Come to think of it, I will not be very happy if you walk home by your self. Please, Miss. Let me drive you.” He begged. Sighing, I got in the car. He tried to talk to me the whole ride, even offering to stop and get ice cream. I shook my head, trying to hold in the tears. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he pulled up to my house. I didn’t wait for him to get out and open my door, I fired off a quick thank you and jumped out, running up the steps.

Much later, having cried until my eyes were almost swollen shut and my throat felt raw, I was in my bed, trying to draw. Nothing was coming. I had thought that drawing a cartoon of him falling out of a helicopter, or getting sat on by Kong might make me feel better, but nothing was coming. I felt empty. I was just reaching over to shut off the light when I heard Tom’s front door open. I waited with baited breath, wondering if he would knock tonight. _Should I try to explain when I hear him come in his room?_

I listened as he made his way nosily up the stairs to his room. I was just taking a breath to call to him, when I heard a distinctly non-Hiddles giggle. A very feminine giggle. I felt the bile rise in my throat. I vaulted out of my bed, grabbing my computer and headed for the stairs. I couldn’t listen to this. As I was just setting foot out of the door, I heard her speak.

“Are you sure you’re famous? This place is pretty small for someone who's famous!” She giggled and I heard him laugh. I slammed my bedroom door shut and stomped down the stairs. I sat on the couch. I absolutely could not believe that he brought her back here. _I mean, it’s his house, but he knows! He fucking knows how thin the walls are!_ I gasped. What if he wanted me to hear them? _What if he knows that I’m in love with him and this is his was of telling me that he doesn’t love me back!_

I felt sick. And pissed. Then I heard him laugh. I could still hear them in the living room. Getting up, I grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and went out into the garden, slamming that door as well. I threw my computer on the table and plopped in the chair, facing away from the house. I sat, watching the moon move across the sky. I had no tears left.

I was just nodding off when I heard Tom’s garden door open. Looking around, I saw the blonde step out in to the yard. She gave me a little wave and proceeded to light a cigarette and walk over to me. She helped herself to a seat.

“Hi there. Sorry to interrupt. I just got tired of waiting and decided to leave. I saw the light of your computer, I hope you don’t mind I came out. I just need the address so I can call a cab.” She said, holding up her phone. I felt slightly bad, because she seemed nice. I thought about it and gave her my address. Probably best not to have some random woman picked up from his address. The tabloids would be all over it, if they hadn’t seen him leave with her already. She punched it into her phone. She took a drag, exhaling on a small laugh.

“Do you know your neighbor well?” She asked.

“Somewhat.” I said, a little frosty.

“He’s a really nice guy. But he told me he was famous. I don’t normally go home with a guy, but he’s really cute. And supposedly famous. I mean, how often do you get the chance to sleep with someone famous? I couldn’t help myself. And he’s wasted.” She chuckled. “Too wasted, apparently.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her. She looked at me and gave me a crooked, between us girls smile.

“Well, he was kissing me, kind of. More like I was doing all the work. I could tell he wasn’t really into it. Then he said that he didn’t want me. He wanted pickles. I thought that was weird, but I went down to his kitchen and found a jar of pickles. When I went back up he was snoring. Guess I’m not as hot as I thought.” She giggled at her self depreciating comment. I smiled at her in spite of myself.

“Is it wrong that I’m slightly happy I wasn’t the only one to have a horrible night?’ I asked her, looking at the sky. She laughed.

“No. And don’t tell on me, but I took his watch. If I wasn’t getting laid, at least I’m getting a souvenir. It will remind me never to do this again.” She sighed. We both looked at the side gate when we heard a car horn.

“That must be me. Thanks for letting me share your quiet time.” She said as she walked across the garden, carrying her heels. As she reached the gate she turned to look at me. “You know what! It wasn’t pickles. It was olives. He said wanted olives.”

And she laughed and turned to let herself out of the gate.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Short, sweet and The End. Smut, fluff and language

 

I sat at the table in the garden for a bit, thinking about what the blonde had said to me. I laughed quietly, thinking that I probably had her to thank for opening my eyes, and I didn’t even know her name. I wondered vaguely if Tom did. _What if he just said he didn’t want her, but wanted Olive because he wanted to sleep?_ I thought. _What if he doesn’t feel anything other than friend love for you? Even if he does have feelings for you, are you willing to overlook what happened tonight? Maybe you should give him a chance to explain himself? Maybe you should look into getting a new place…. But what if he loves you too?_  
I sighed, not knowing how to answer myself. As I sat there, I felt a few drops of rain. Grabbing my computer, I went inside, deciding to attempt to get some sleep. If I slept on it, maybe I would know what to do in the morning.

When I got to my room, I could hear Tom’s loud snores through the wall. I sat against my headboard, listening to him. Knowing I wasn’t about to get any sleep, I opened my computer and searched out some of my favorite author’s master lists. As I lost myself in the words and stories, I didn’t notice the sky outside my window getting lighter. I was just reaching the turning point of a super slow burn angst-fest when I heard Tom stir.

He groaned and moved around on his bed. He must have kicked off his shoes, because I heard them clunk on the floor and then he groaned some more. Eventually, I heard him manage to get off the bed and make his way to the bathroom. The shower started. I shrugged and went back to reading. He was in there for quite a while. Well, he must have been pretty wasted for all that to happen last night. He’s probably sleeping standing up. I thought, cracking a small smile at the thought of his probable hangover.

I was just looking for the next chapter when I heard him yell my name. Panicking, I sat up and made to get off the bed when I heard his bathroom door bang open.

“Fuck! Olive! Olive are you there?” He yelled, banging on the wall. I jumped and let out a squeak at the unexpected and loud banging. He stopped and listened.

“Olive? Olive, please. Please let me explain. I fucked up. I don’t know what I can say to convince you to forgive me. Olive? I feel like a tit saying this to the wall, but I can’t do this anymore.” He said, his voice raw.  
I felt my stomach drop. _This is it. He’s going to tell me that he doesn’t love me and he wants me to move. Or he’s going to move._ He took a deep breath.

“Last night was… a fucking disaster. I had such big plans for last night. I was going to tell you. I was so nervous, Olive. I mean, I shouldn’t be, right? It’s you! You’re my best friend. I can tell you anything. But I was. I had a few drinks on the plane… well, more than a few, and then when I got there and saw you dancing with that complete twit…. I just… I don’t know. Felt crushed. Thought I could forget you.” He stopped and I imagined him running his hand through his hair, looking for the words. He gave a humorless laugh. “As if I could ever forget you.”

I felt tears welling in my eyes, but for once, they weren’t the hopeless, lonely tears. Getting quietly off my bed, I tip toed across my room and down the stairs. Quickly, I grabbed the key off the counter and went into the garden, letting myself into his kitchen. I could hear him still talking in the bedroom.

“Olive, you deserve more than someone like that guy. He was just looking for someone to talk at. He didn’t care that you were a million miles away.” He said, and I could hear the creaks of him pacing back and forth. He was just getting his stride. “You need someone who knows you. Who understands that even though you can be quiet, there is so much going on behind those eyes. Someone who knows all the wonderful, amazing things about you. All the little secrets that take years to find out.” Silently, and skipping the fourth stair from the bottom because it squeaked, I made my way up to his room. Standing in his doorway, I watched him talk to the wall, with only a towel around his waist. For a brief, hysterical second, I thought what a great cartoon it would make.

“Olive? You are all that I can think about when I’m away. Holding you in my arms at night, even if we’re only sleeping is home to me. I can’t live without you. I need you. All of you. I’ve loved you since before that first night we slept on your couch, but I was afraid. Olive, I was so afraid of losing you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I didn’t want to risk telling you and you not to feel the same.” He leaned his head against the wall.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, but I couldn’t deal with watching you find someone else. When I found out that you were trying the online dating thing, I panicked. I know it was a shit thing to do, but I couldn’t watch you find someone else….” He sighed. “Olive, please. Please say something.” He begged. I stood there for a moment watching him, then looked around his bedroom. Perched up top of his dresser, leaning against the wall, was my painting. I couldn’t believe it.

“You know, if you liked that horrible thing so much, I would have given it to you. You didn’t have to spend all that money on it.” I said quietly, giving him a tentative smile when he turned around, his eyes wide. He crossed the room in two long strides, pulling me into his arms. He crushed me to his chest.

“Oli! Please. Please forgive me. I will never, never hurt you like that again. I promise. I swear on everything in my being that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.” He breathed into my hair. I could feel the tears that had been threatening start to break their dams. “Please, say something.”

“I love you Tom. I always have.” I said into his chest, closing my eyes and sighing as he pulled me tighter to him. He pulled back a little so he could look into my face. He touched my cheek with his hands, leaning his forehead against mine.

“Olive. My Olive. My beautiful Olive. I love you.” He said, leaning down and touching his lips to mine. My eyes fluttered closed. My hands found their way up his chest and wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. He ran his tongue along my bottom lip, asking for permission. My mouth opened of its own accord, and his tongue swept in and danced with mine.

Tom walked me backwards towards his bed, until the backs of my legs bumped against it and I fell, sitting onto the bed. His lips never left mine as he crawled over me onto the bed, and I scooted back until my head touched the pillows. He pulled at my shirt, yanking it over my head. My pajama pants were gone in an instant. His towel was already on the floor, forgotten. Bracing himself on his forearms above me, he looked down at me, a goofy smile on his lips.  
“You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of this. How many times I’ve woken with you in my arms and not been able to take you, then and there. How many times I’ve wanted to make love to you until you scream my name, darling. Will you be mine?” He asked, leaning down and nipping at my collar bone.

“Yes.” I sighed, wrapping my arms around the small of his back, pulling him closer. I wanted him so badly. I couldn’t wait.

“Will you?” He asked, mischief in his eyes as he snaked his arm between us, his long fingers finding my core. I arched against him as he began to stroke me. He kissed my neck, and moved his thumb to my sensitive bud and began to circle it.

“Yes!” I whimpered, my hands flying up and gripping his shoulders. I could feel myself starting to get that tightening in the pit of my stomach. He quickened the pace of his stroking, drawing me out.

“You’ll be mine Olive? I need to hear you say those words.” He breathed against my chest, his tongue darting out and circling my nipple, causing me to cry out.

“Fuck! Yes, Tom. I’m yours! I always have been.” I breathed. With the admission he was looking for, he positioned himself between my legs, and hovered at my entrance. He brushed my hair from my face and kissed me gently as he entered me. The feeling of my body stretching to accommodate him was exquisite. I gasped as his body met mine.

“Darling, are you alright?” He asked, the strain on his face evident as he held himself still until I was comfortable. I answered him by bucking up to meet him and getting even closer to him. He grinned. He kissed me, kissing slowly down to my jaw, then along my neck, gently biting me here and there. He began moving, and already, I felt myself building back to the edge again. moving as one, we were reaching for that release together. I cried out his name as he reached between us and ran his finger along my clit, causing shocks of sensation to shoot through me. Kissing me, he moved faster. I bit his lip and pulled back to catch my breath. He was kissing just behind my ear, nibbling my lobe.

“Olive, I love you. You are everything.” He whispered in my ear, causing me to break around him. My body fluttered and I gasped. He grunted as he found his release and partially collapsed on me, still holding himself up on one forearm. Pulling me with him, he rolled to his side and snuggled me up to his chest. I was laying in his arms, his fingers drawing delicious patterns on my back, drifting in and out sleep, when my eyes caught on the painting. I stared at it for a good twenty minutes, thinking about how much had changed since I painted it. Tom’s breathing got deeper the longer I contemplated the painting.

I turned my attention to him for a bit, just watching him sleep. He loved me. He wanted to be with me. My heart was soaring. But my eyes kept going back to the painting. The pain that it contained was crying out to me. I couldn’t take it anymore. Slowly, so as not to disturb sleeping beauty, I managed to get off the bed. Grabbing his Cuddle Sweater of Doom off the chair by the door, I silently made my way down the stairs and over to my house.

I let myself in and ran down the hall to my studio, and grabbed the painting I had finished the other day. Quickly, I ran back over to his house. I was just putting my foot on the bottom stair, when I heard him call out my name.

“Oli? Olive? Shit. Olive!” He called. I ran up the stairs to find him just getting out of the bed. He smiled with relief when I came back in the room. “Don’t do that to me! I thought you had changed your mind!” I grinned at him.

“I don’t think so, Hiddleston. You’re stuck with me now. I just figured that since you paid me all that money for a painting that represents what I think love is, I should probably give you the one that shows the truth.” I took down the painting of the lake, and put the one of the shelves filled with olive jars in its place.

He held his arms out to me and I gladly went back to the bed to join him. Snuggling down into the sheets, I sighed in contentment as he held me close. Listening to his heart beat, I drifted off to sleep.


End file.
